Inside Out

Perspective,

Weekly Word Prompt : This week’s word prompt is : Perspective.

This is an old poem of mine, The poem “Inside Out”, is more just a rhyme and a play on a few featured words. Over the road from were I once lived, there was a furniture shop, and the advertising hoarding was, “Inside Out, Exotic Furniture”, well I was sitting there waiting for the bus, and in my minds imagination, I changed the the words to “Inside-out, Upside-down, Erotic Furniture”, and hence my little anecdote was laid…. with a totally different perspective..

Inside Out

The view of my love seems upside down.

When I’m at the bottom of her flowing gown.

And my erotic picture appears inside out.

What’s this scenic love all about.

The ways of my love seem upside down.

When she’s on top, covering me ’til I drown.

And I’m underneath, neither in, nor out.

What’s this crazy love all about.

The river of my love seems upside down.

When I’m sitting inside her smiling frown.

And her foreign body hits me in and out.

What’s this exotic love all about.

The world of my love seems upside down.

When I’m laying below her pounding mound.

And her endless thrusts, feel inside out.

What’s this frenzied love all about.

Ivor Steven (c 2018

Odds And Ends, Curiosity Going Around The Bend

Weekly Prompts: Word Prompt, This weeks word prompt: Curiosity.    And there’s plenty of curiosity in these odds and ends pieces of poetry that I’ve compiled below. They are all verse comments that I’ve made to some of my readers.

Curiosity

It’s the devil in me

curiosity of a busy bee

I just had to see

your words of poetry

Pencils

I never retire without my note-pad nearby

My lead pencil, my bedtime writing scribe

Sometimes heavy, other times light

A necessary sword to fight off dark nights

Words To You

You write to me

I write to you

Your thoughts say it all

Words do fall

Out of a crack in the wall

Stand on the rubble tall

Let the dust settle

Light up the Kettle

Have a cuppa and a chat

Light flows back, through the crack

Writing is our world

Words are our pearls

Drum Beat

Writing is a conundrum

Keep beating your drum

There’s a tune in your pen, for every line

Do not worry about the time

It’s only the sound of a chime

Everlasting is your journey’s climb

Rain And Pain

I no more seek pain

I feel caressed by the rain

Soothing my daily strain

Let it rain, I’m over being a champion

Clouds

oh, to float on a cloud high

be at peace with the sky

quietly breathe in and sigh

look down and wonder why

Upside Down

hanging around upside down

gives you a top view of the ground

reverses the annoying busy sounds

lets you think of life’s endless bounds

Wet Grass

You lay there bathing in moonshine

Caressing tingles down your spine

Freshening evening dew

Letting the moist grass entwine you

Lovely

Love has all the answers

Let us all pack our travel-bags

Join the world’ dancers

Let us all wave our white flags

Power

Is the shift of power

For every-ones good

Living in their glass towers

Hearts made of plastic wood

Leaving us to bow and cower

Raped by their greedy falsehoods

I Am You

You are you

From top to toe

You are you

From arm to palm

You are you

A heart full of gold

You are you

A light for our souls

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

They Were Singing My Song

Weekly Prompt: This weeks Word Prompt; Germs

 

There’s festering germs in my brain

The hallucination seems real

Last night I went to a funeral

The funeral was mine

 

Attending the wake

In the forest beside the lake

I was a mental mess

Walking around, dressed in my finest

A plastic name-tag tied to my thong

They were singing my song

 

Alone, I trekked through botanical gardens

Heading towards the big game

Couldn’t remember who was playing

Does it even matter

I was too busy dictating

My last will and testament

To any-one who would listen

Telling the young ones, not to worry

“Uncle Ivor will look after you, we all belong”

They were singing my song

 

There wasn’t a church

More like the Football Club hall

Big enough to hold them all

Ample food and gallons to drink

Leonard was there all along

He was singing my song

 

There was no Hallelujah

Making it write, knew the words

A Tennessee man played the drums

Every foot was tapping to the beat

The beat goes on, and on

They were singing my song

 

The music resonated into my art gallery

Organised to humour the goddess

The local switchboard was frantic, like a chatter blog

Announcing a wake, under the stars

Celestial, stellar, and beyond

They were singing my song

 

Lemons adorned the tables

Soul gifts, smelling fresh as hell

Too fiery there, I wasn’t allowed to dwell

The crowd was giving me the cold shoulder

I was talking to myself in Antarctica

Overhearing the laughter, rejoicing in my coldness

They were singing my song

One of us cannot be wrong

 

I’d like to thank the following, fellow friends/bloggers, for attending my dream-time wake, as per my dream, in order of  appearance.

1. Mental Mess

2. DoesItEvenMatter

3. Making It Write

4. The Tennessee Poet

5. Humouring The Goddess

6. Chatter Blog

7. Stella

8. Lemon

9. Soul Gifts

10. Fresh Hell

11. Fiery

12. Talking To Myself

And of course, Leonard Cohen, for his glorious music and Lyrics.

 

And here is my poem, “It’s Just A Little Dream”

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/its-just-a-little-dream-2/

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Tullawalla And A Dragonfly

Weekly Prompt: Photo prompt for this week, Right Place Right Time

I’m presenting pictures here of “My Home”, and feeling incredibly fortunate, that I happened to be in the right place at the right time, two years ago, when I was lucky enough to find this little abode for sale. And on inspection I immediately feel in love with the place, knowing that this is where my soul could finally be at peace, and I came to engross myself in this writers haven that I had dreamt of, and knowing that it was now going to become a reality. Thank you to Linda, of Spiritual Dragonfly, for inspiring to do this post about “My Place”, and I hope all is well there for Linda over in Carolina, after coping with Hurricane Florence.

 

Above, my verandah area, my gallery, and where the old family home name, “Tullawalla” sign,  is now proudly on display.

 

Above, My fernery, my garden courtyard, and more of my verandah gallery.

 

Above. More of my gallery under the verandah, and my barbeque and my outdoor speakers, which are wired back to my computer sound system, I hope the neighbours appreciate my music choices

 

Above. My home, front view, window garden bed and my garage. The writers bedroom and studio/desk area, is where all the poems are written. And attached below a lovely song from Xavier Rudd… “Home”

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

 

 

 

 

Dumped

Weekly Prompt: Word Prompt, This weeks word is, Nuisance

 

I didn’t think I was a nuisance

Strolling around, minding my own business

Waiting, like the rest of my crowd

A sturdy warhorse, tall and proud

Delivering parcels to and fro

Rain, hail or snow

I do the best that I can

I keep myself gleamy and clean

Always courteous and patient

Give me a push and I’ll respond

I was controlled and strong

And I didn’t mind the little-ones

I’d happily lug them around

Screaming and kicking me

I’d stand there quietly smirking

Taking all their constant abuse

From both young and old

 

Why did I end up here

Dumped like an alley cat

Caged like a mongrel dog

Behind this fence of cold iron

On top of the towns highest hill

Under a dripping cypress tree

How did they drag me

Up the rocky track’s steepest incline

I’m scared, abandoned and alone

My old frame is turning grey and rusty

Am I finally at the end of the line

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

A Festival

Weekly Prompts. Photo Prompt: Festival

During the last six years, I’ve attended numerous music festivals within the Geelong area and I was fortunate enough to also go to the world famous Port Fairy Folk Music Festival, in 2013, featuring, David Francey(with his band, Go Jane Go), Xavier Rudd, and Geoffrey Gurrumul, a music vidoe of his glorious singing below, you won’t believe how beautiful his voice is !! The featured image above is from the Geelong Jazz Festival on streets in the CBD.

 

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Above, From The Top, David Francey,(left side of stage) at Port Fairy Folk Music Festival 2013.  Next: Enjoying the festival, Ivor with Lyn, one of those dear friends of Carole, who were there with us throughout the whole journey. (we swapped hats for this pic)

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Above are pictures from the Geelong Motor City Music Festival, 2014 and 2015. From the Top,  Lloyd Spiegel, Claude Hay, my friends enjoying the show, Martin, Terry and Jacqui, and The Chris Wilson Blues Band .

Above two pictures are from our local Pako Festa, a multi-cultural festival held annually here in Geelong, a street parade, street stalls and displays and outdoor concerts. Left, pic Ivor with Niamh, My Irish friend’s Martin and Jacqui, daughter, 2013, she’s 18 months old, and the same little Niamh in 2016, yep she’s Ivor’s special little girl.

Here below a poem I wrote about my time at the Port Fairy Folk Music Festival, in March 2013, and the four day Festival was an event I shall always remember.

A Festival

 

A Festival, beside the sea

Musicians playing in the breeze

Song-catchers of sadness and glee

Open for everyone to see

 

A Festival, of warmth and love

Bound together within a community glove

Endless tunes, over and above

Gliding around like peaceful doves

 

A Festival, with friends in a cottage

Laughter, travelling through the village

Riding on a horse-drawn carriage

Singing out of tune, a broken homage

 

A Festival, rejoicing day and night

Eating and drinking on-site

The multitude happy and bright

Hovering under the stage lights

 

A Festival, a joyful blast

Memories always to last

The fun time went so fast

Holding hands on the grass

 

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018

 

Auspiciously

“Weekly Prompt” . The word prompt for this week: Serendipity

 

I’m a poet of little renown

Writing continuously for eighteen years

Scribbling word after word

Penning thousands upon thousands of lines

Forming hundreds and hundreds of poems

My stories of memories and rhymes

Soulful words of mine

By perchance

I’m reviewing my poems today

Reading every poem, every word

Auspiciously

Discovering there’s a word

A word I’ve never used

I’m mystified and perplexed

I’ve never been charmed

With the gift of the written word

Fortuity has rolled on by me

I’m wondering why

Why I’ve never used the word

Serendipity

 

Ivor Steven (c)  2018